


Book One

by screamingarrows



Series: ATLA au series [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25723927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingarrows/pseuds/screamingarrows
Summary: Azula-centric AU. In which Azula bonds with Iroh.
Relationships: Azula & Iroh (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: ATLA au series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865854
Comments: 11
Kudos: 159





	Book One

Ozai has always hated Zuko and when Azula was born, he doted on her like she was his only heir. Ursa doesn’t mean to ignore Azula, but Zuko needs her and Ozai got to Azula first; Ursa doesn’t know how to fight against Ozai’s teaching to break through to her daughter’s humanity.

When Iroh comes back from Ba Sing Se, he realizes something isn’t quite right with his niece. She’s a little too cold, a little too bloodthirsty; a little too detached from anything not involving her father’s approval. Iroh watches the behaviors of the family with muted concern, too captivated by his own grief to put forth any comments to Azulon.

And then, before he’s been home a week, he’s burying his father and mourning the loss of his sister-in-law. He sits through Ozai’s coronation in a haze, moving through the motions on automatic.

For the next few weeks, he watches with mindless curiosity as the dynamics of the royal family shift. Neither children openly grieve over the loss of their mother or their grandfather. Iroh couldn’t imagine losing a parent that young- feels as though he’s barely coping with it as an adult. Zuko falls further and further from his father’s grace and Azula becomes more and more sadistic in her teasing; Iroh feels something tight build in his chest. He’s childless, but he’s no less a father for it and he can’t help but step in and fill the role these children need.

He starts sitting in on their bending lessons. He gives them both ample praise and offers advice on improvement; he works with them individually to provide an environment free of competition, where they’re safe and comfortable to learn and better themselves.

They hate it at first. Zuko falls to self-deprecation and thinks Iroh’s praise is a trick. He pushes himself harder and harder until he’s near collapse. Azula is on the opposite end; she is overly confident and thinks herself above anyone’s need for approval. She ignores Iroh’s advice and shows off with moves far too dangerous for her age.

But Iroh persists. He coaches Zuko into managing his frustrations through meditation and watches as the boy becomes more and more confident in his presence. He redirects Azula’s cruelty into something more constructive; he invites her into games of strategy and teaches her of his military expertise.

Gradually, he helps them through the loss of their mother, and as another year passes, they accompany him to remember Lu Ten and then they turn and do the same celebration for Ursa.

Everything seems to be going the status quo. Iroh is beginning to truly heal from his losses, and the children are too.

And then something happens.

A blue-masked thief is found darting over the royal garden walls.

The palace is on high alert after that. Iroh sits with his niece and nephew for breakfast the next morning and sips at his tea as the two pick at their food.

“You don’t think they can really get in, do you, Uncle?” Zuko asks, breaking the silence.

“Don’t be stupid,” Azula snaps, “no one’s going to get past the royal guard.” Then she pauses and looks over at Iroh with her eyes pinched in worry. “Right?”

Iroh smiles and sets down his tea.

“I think it’s very unlikely,” he says and Azula looks over at Zuko, beaming with pride at being right and Iroh’s stomach twists at the expression on both their faces. “But,” he says, and they look over at him with open, scared faces. Iroh continues, “I should think you both have enough skill to look after one another. Siblings are a great blessing. They can be your best friend and your fiercest defender.”

Zuko and Azula both look at each other out of the corner of their eyes, jerking their head away when they catch the other looking, and Iroh has to stop himself from smiling. “Not to mention, you have me and your father here to protect you.”

This catches their attention and Iroh sees the slight blush appearing on their faces. He receives twin responses in unison, “thank you, Uncle,” and with their minds free of worry, they begin to eat their meals in earnest.

Their joint bending practice seems to go smoother than ever that afternoon, and that night after dinner, Iroh watches as the two seem to shadow each other, hovering in the same rooms for no apparent reason and following when the other leaves.

Since being back at home, Iroh had fallen into the habit of walking the children to bed; it’s a leftover habit from when Lu Ten had been young, and it makes him sleep better in the present day. Usually Azula darts off on her own and leaves Iroh to check in on her after walking Zuko to bed, but tonight, before Zuko and Iroh can reach Zuko’s chambers, Azula pokes her head out of her room.

“Hey, Zuzu,” Azula calls, racing down the hall and jerking to a stop right in front of them. “If you’re too scared to sleep alone, you can stay in my room.”

Her voice is light and mocking and Zuko bristles at the tone and nickname, but then he pauses. It’s not like Azula to volunteer something like that, even as a joke. She’s more likely to send Zuko away to be alone with a comment that would scare him. Her hands are held behind her back and she’s balancing on her tiptoes; everything about her screams mockery and Iroh feels physical pain at the sight of his young niece being so afraid of being genuine.

Zuko looks up at Iroh, which causes Azula’s eyes to dart to him before back to Zuko, and Iroh smiles softly at his nephew. Zuko nods at the look and then nods to Azula.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Thanks, Azula.”

Azula smiles widely at him and spins on her toes before bouncing back down the hall. Zuko and Iroh follow her to her room and Iroh is bidding them goodnight when Azula stops him from leaving.

“Uncle?” she calls and Iroh looks back at her with a smile. She’s putting even more effort to appear nonchalant and unbothered.

“Yes, Princess Azula?”

She perks up at the title and looks down at her nails, picking at the cuticle.

“If you would like, you’re welcome to stay.”

Iroh looks from his niece’s blank face to his nephew’s eager one, and nods once in a small bow.

“I would be honored to stay with you both.”

Iroh angles Azula’s lounge chair so he can keep an eye out the window and also on the door. He lights a small flame in his palm and lets it rise and fall with his breathing; soon the children fall asleep to the shadows dancing hypnotically on the ceiling and Iroh lets the flame stabilize in his hand.

It’s been a long time since Iroh has pulled an all-night watch, but he remembers the mental exercises designed to keep him alert and runs through the drills tirelessly, until he hears a near-silent scuff in the hallway. Immediately he snuffs the flame in his palm and stands, moving in the shadows of the room towards the doorway.

He can just barely make out a dark figure moving towards them- the glint of metal catches on the moon for just a moment. Fierce protectiveness stokes the fire inside him, but there’s something off about the gait of the intruder that gives him pause. He waits a moment for the intruder to get closer, before stepping out and throwing a fireball in warning at their feet. Dual broadswords are illuminated and Iroh falls into a fighting stance as the flame on the stone floor goes out. There’s a soft _shink_ as the swords are sheathed and the intruder gestures largely with their arms. Iroh holds out one hand, willing a flame into existence, and sees the intruder holding their empty hands up in a sign of peace. Intrigued, Iroh straightens out of his fighting stance, but doesn’t move away from the doorway.

“Who are you?” he asks in a soft voice and the blue mask shakes its head.

“What do you want?” Again, the blue mask shakes its head in silence.

“Well, surely you haven’t broken into the palace to have a walk,” Iroh says and the blue mask pauses before shaking its head slowly.

“Do you intent to do harm?” This time, the mask shakes quickly.

“Do you know who I am?” This earns a nod.

“Are you looking for something?” Again, there’s a pause and Iroh knows he’s on the right track before the mask nods.

There’s sound coming from the bedroom behind him and Iroh cocks his head to listen to the sleepy shuffling without taking his eyes off the blue-masked intruder. And that’s how he sees it, sees the way they lean forward, head cocked just slightly in the way parents do, like they’re also listening. Iroh’s blood turns to ice.

“Ursa?”

The intruder freezes then backs up a step on instinct. Iroh feels sick, with relief or guilt he’s not sure. He opens his mouth to say more, but he’s cut off by a gently, “Uncle?” coming from a half-asleep Zuko.

Iroh turns to look into the room. “Just a minute,” he says and turns back to an empty hallway.

“Is everything okay?” Zuko asks, sounding more alert.

 _No_ , Iroh wants to say. “Yes, there’s nothing to worry about,” Iroh says, stepping back into the room. “Go back to sleep.”

Zuko looks at him blearily, but then nods and lays back down, curling against Azula. 

Iroh sits back down at his seat, just in time to see a dark shadow propel itself back over the wall.

\--

It’s a few days later when Ozai calls his children into a private meeting. Zuko and Azula race each other there and kneel beside each other in front of their father’s throne. Ozai leaves them waiting there for several long moments before asking, in a dry dangerous voice, why Zuko had spent the past few nights in Azula’s room.

“Oh, uh,” Zuko says, mind blanking with panic. “We were concerned about the Blue Spirit—”

Ozai cuts him off. “You were concerned?”

Zuko’s heart races in his chest. “Yes, sir.”

“And you, Azula? Were you also _concerned_?” Ozai’s voice comes out mocking and Azula tightens the fist across her chest. Something hot and greasy twists in her stomach.

“No, father.”

Zuko’s head whips over to stare at her but Azula doesn’t take her eyes off Ozai. Something dark and twisted tells her looking away from her father now might be the last thing she ever does.

“No,” Ozai says approvingly. “I thought not.” Then his voice turns hard. “Zuko, I expect you to sleep in your own rooms. Should I hear from your servants that you are found anywhere else, we will not have such a peaceful talk. Am I understood?”

Zuko bows his head. “Yes, sir.”

The children are dismissed and they walk silently side-by-side until they’re out in the hallway. Azula raises one hand to her stomach and reaches out for Zuko with the other.

“I—” she says, but Zuko twists away from her touch.

“Leave me alone, Azula,” he growls and blinks away the tears burning in his eyes as he marches away.

\--

Iroh finds Zuko by the pond. Turtle ducks swim lazy in the water and Zuko brushes away tears as he approaches.

“Hello, Uncle,” he says quietly.

“Hello, Prince Zuko,” Iroh responds in kind, sitting next to him. “You seem upset.”

“It’s Azula!” Zuko shouts and to his mortification, more tears burn in his eyes. He continues, quieter, “and-and father, and-and I don’t know why they hate me.”

A knot grows in Iroh’s chest and he fights the urge to shift in discomfort. “I’m sure that’s not true,” he says half-heartedly and Zuko shrugs.

“It is. Father knows I’ve been staying with Azula, and she just—she let him think it was my idea. Now Father’s angry at me and it wasn’t only my fault!”

Iroh stays silent after the outburst, giving Zuko a moment to catch his breath.

“I understand your frustration, Prince Zuko,” Iroh says slowly and Zuko looks at him with watery eyes. “Azula’s actions weren’t right, but have you thought about why she behaved like she did?”

“Because she’s evil,” Zuko mutters, digging his toes in the dirt.

“Zuko,” Iroh says warningly and Zuko mutters a “sorry,” back as Iroh exhales. Iroh’s on very thin ice here, tiptoeing the line of treason, but he carries on.

“I know you fear your father, Prince Zuko,” Iroh says softly. Zuko jerks, opening his mouth to refute it, but Iroh continues. “I would think your sister does too.”

Zuko scoffs. “Azula isn’t afraid of Father. He loves _her_.”

Iroh wishes he could explain that what Ozai feels isn’t love, wishes he could explain that Ozai doesn’t know _how_ to love. It would save these kids an awful lot of heartache later.

“It’s important to look at every side of a situation,” Iroh says anyway. “And you are her big brother. Sometimes—”

“Oh, good,” Zuko says, cutting him off. “You’re on Azula’s side too.”

“I am not on anyone’s side,” Iroh says patiently. He doesn’t love the attitude in Zuko’s words, but he’s not willing to get off track by correcting it. “You are Azula’s big brother, Zuko, and as an older brother, sometimes you have to shoulder responsibility that will protect your sister. It’s not fair, and I should hope she will show you the same respect, given the opportunity.”

Zuko sniffs hard and rubs his eyes with his sleeve.

“’m sorry,” Zuko mumbles and Iroh smiles, patting his hand.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Prince Zuko. Now, how does lunch sound?”

\--

Azula doesn’t show up for lunch and she doesn’t show up for her bending practice with Iroh that afternoon, so Iroh goes looking for her. He finds her in the library, sitting in the window seat overlooking the turtle duck pond.

“Do you mind if I join you, Princess?”

Azula jumps, like she didn’t hear him coming, and nods quickly before realizing what she was doing and stops abruptly to shrug one shoulder.

“I don’t suppose I could stop you,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder to look back out the window. Iroh smiles and sits down, well aware she’s watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

“I promise, if you denied me, I would leave you alone.”

Azula hums and doesn’t acknowledge him further. Iroh is content to sit in silence. He laid siege to Ba Sing Se for six hundred days, he can outwait Azula. Eventually, his patience is rewarded.

“I saw you talking with Zuko,” she says, still looking out the window.

“Yes,” Iroh confirms and Azula looks at him, mouth pursed in a tight line.

“ _Well?_ Aren’t you going to tell me off? Didn’t he tell you what I did?”

Iroh wants to weep, wants to scream, wants to burn this palace to the ground. He wants to tell these children his love is not as easily lost as they seem to think it is.

“He did tell me, but I am not here to reprimand you.” Azula’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Why not?”

“Because, I think you feel guilty enough, don’t you?”

Azula sets her jaw and swallows hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you know how a sword is forged?” Iroh asks and Azula blinks in surprise at the topic change. She doesn’t answer and Iroh continues. “First, you take clumps of metal and you have to melt it down into a liquid. It’s a very long process and takes a tremendous amount of heat. Once it’s liquid, it’s poured into a mold and cooled. Then it’s beaten into shape, heated again, beaten some more. You have to be careful not to apply too much heat, or too much force, because it could warp the blade, and make it liable to break.

“But then, once you have the perfect blade, it still must be handled with care and respect, because even a perfect blade can do damage and be detrimental to use if not handled properly.”

“Where are you going with this, Uncle?”

Iroh leans forward. “You are very strong, Azula, and very intelligent. Your strength is much like a sword, forged and sharpened, and dangerous if not cared for properly.”

Azula’s eyes narrow. “You think I’m dangerous?”

“No,” Iroh answers and the honestly bleeds out of his voice. “But I think you need to be aware of how your strength can be used against others.”

Azula rolls her eyes and stares out the window. “It’s not my fault Zuko isn’t a good liar,” she says after a moment.

“No, it’s not,” Iroh says lightly, “but have you considered if he was?”

Iroh hears Azula’s breath hitch and exhales softly. “You and your brother have different strengths; that can either bond you and make you a formidable force together, or it can tear you apart and inspire a fierce enemy that understands you in a way no one else does.” Azula casts Iroh a quick glance and he gives her a small smile.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Princess, because I think you already know what to do. But I am here to help you understand where you want your lines drawn.”

“I’m not going to disappoint my father to make Zuko feel better,” she snaps suddenly and Iroh isn’t sure where he misstepped, but he quickly recalculates and leans back in his chair.

“I would never ask you to do that,” Iroh soothes, “but you should not go out of your way to throw him into fire.”

Azula huffs and crosses her arms, nails tightening into her skin. “It was either him or me.”

Iroh knows the year he’s had with them is nothing compared to the ten years Ozai has had with Azula, but he can’t stop trying.

“It’s easy to see it that way, but Zuko is your big brother. I know he’d rather stand beside you than against you.”

Azula’s hands flex and Iroh lets the statement settle before rising out of his seat. “I will be at the training grounds if you feel like practicing today,” he says and moves towards the door. He doesn’t expect a reply and can’t fight the smile when Azula replies, “yes, Uncle,” in a soft voice.

\--

Iroh waits at the training ground with a heavy feeling in his chest. He moves through his meditative breathing and tries to ignore acknowledging the way minutes dredge into an hour. He breathes in deep, feels the air in his lungs stoke the fire in his chest, and when he exhales, smoky wisps float in front of his face.

The pitter-patter of footsteps echo against the rock walls and Iroh smiles to himself before turning around to see Azula jerk to a stop with Zuko right behind her.

“I thought we could practice together,” Azula says and despite her authoritative tone, Iroh hears the question and smiles at them both.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

\--

Iroh watches as Azula and Zuko grow closer together. They’re both still short-tempered and quick to argue, but the arguments grow less hostile, less cruel. They stand with each other more often than they stand against each other and Iroh’s unbelievably proud. Zuko becomes confident under Iroh’s praise, despite his father’s belittling; Azula’s quick thinking and strategic instincts make her a worthy pai sho opponent and Iroh sees the natural leader within her. He knows, together, they will lead the Fire Nation into something better than it has ever been before.

One afternoon, when Azula is off with her friends, Zuko trails after Iroh to a war meeting and bargains his way inside. Zuko’s heart is far too good and he’s far too young, but Iroh lets him in and watches with muted horror as Zuko speaks out against a general proposing to sacrifice young soldiers, speaks out against the Fire Lord, and is challenged to an Agni Kai.

Iroh wishes, more than anything, he’d been working with Zuko to manage his _pride_ because the young prince confidently accepts the challenge before Iroh can think to grab him.

A child has never been called to an Agni Kai before; surely Iroh could have stopped this. He could have forced Zuko to sit down and _be quiet_ , could have bruised his pride and taken his place…

Time seems to have slowed to a standstill when Iroh heard Zuko accept the challenge, so he’s not sure how, suddenly, he finds himself standing amongst a crowd, watching Zuko prepare himself for a fight.

With his back turned, red silk over his shoulders and dark hair in a high top knot, Iroh can’t stop seeing Lu Ten and he feels as though his chest is caving, like he’s swallowed his heart and everything inside him is turning to ash.

Ozai makes his entrance and Zuko turns, face paling when he sees his father at the end of the stage. Iroh watches as the boy falls to his knees and then he’s looking through the crowd for Azula. He’s suddenly panicked, searching for her as Ozai approaches his apologetic, begging son. He needs his eyes on her, needs to make sure she’s okay and isn’t watching what’s about to happen.

Almost as if his thoughts summoned her, Azula appears in the entrance of the hall as Ozai grabs Zuko’s face. Iroh can’t look back, can’t look away from Azula in the doorway; Azula’s eyes are glued to the stage, wide-eyed, face blank, hands fisted at her side.

The screams stop suddenly and Iroh jerks his attention back to Zuko. He might have just missed his nephew’s last moments, because he was a coward who couldn’t bare witness to the cruelties before him. Zuko’s collapsed on the floor and Ozai is addressing the cheering crowd around Iroh, but he can’t hear anything. He’s too hyper focused on trying to see if Zuko’s chest is moving.

Finally, Ozai finishes his speech with a call to the servants to collect Zuko and Iroh feels like he could collapse in relief. He’s _alive_.

He watches as two servants carefully lift Zuko up and take him away. Iroh has half a mind to follow them, but he looks around for Azula and can’t find her in the mass of _monsters_ who act as though this is a _party_.

Despite wanting to follow Zuko, or challenge Ozai to his own Agni Kai, Iroh needs to find his niece.

He spends a good moment searching for her, and only finds her after spotting one of her friends in the kitchen and following her back to where Azula is hiding. It’s a small area near the edge of the royal forest, enclosed with rock and shrubbery; it’s easy to overlook and far enough away not to be stumbled upon.

He knocks politely on the walls of the fort and hears the dull _thud_ of a tea plate hitting the grassy ground.

“Princess Azula?” he calls out softly. “I am just here to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” she responds curtly from inside and Iroh sighs.

“May I come in?”

There’s near-silent whispering and Iroh can hear Azula’s voice turn hard as she speaks to her friends, but the two girls come crawling out of the entrance. Iroh nods at them, but they keep their heads bowed. Ty Lee grabs Mai’s hand and follows her to the side, standing amongst the trees. Iroh takes in a steadying breath and enters Azula’s domain.

Its setup is not unlike the war room and Iroh’s stomach twists, anxiety flooding him over the thought of Azula in that room. She’s sitting at the head of a narrow table and Iroh joins her, sitting at the chair to her left.

Azula’s eyes are red-rimmed, but free of tears and Iroh suddenly doesn’t know what to say. He came to comfort his niece, but she won’t accept comforting.

“What did he do?” Azula asks softly, breaking the silence so Iroh didn’t have to.

“He spoke up against a plan in the war meeting today,” Iroh says, just as softly.

Azula frowns. She looks away, eyes narrowed. “We aren’t allowed in the war room.” Her voice is hard and Iroh can’t tell if it’s jealousy or desperation hidden in her tone.

 _No_ , Iroh thinks, _and for good reason_. He bows his head.

“He accompanied me.”

“ _You?_ ” Azula’s voice is incredulous. “You… so this is your fault!”

She’s right; Iroh has no argument to give, but Azula has a wild look in her eyes and she continues, “ _you_ should have been up there! It shouldn’t have been Zuko!”

 _I know_ , Iroh wants to say, but nothing he could have done would have stopped Ozai from hurting Zuko. His brother had always been building up to this and Iroh just happened to hand him the perfect excuse served up on a golden platter.

“This – was this all a plan?” she asks, nostrils flared. “Grandfather took away your right to the throne so you do this? You lost a son so my father must too?”

The words hit like a physical blow and tears spring to Iroh’s eyes.

“Of course not, Azula,” he says immediately. He wants to say, _it was not my hand that burnt him_ ; wants to say, _how many times have you both yelled at me, fought with me, and have I ever so much as raised my voice?_ But now she’s looking panicked; she looks almost like she’s a cornered animal and Iroh didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but it has.

Slowly, _slowly_ , he moves to stand and walks away. He can hear her rapid, irregular breathing across the room and he pauses at the entrance.

“I love you like a daughter, Azula, I would never do anything to harm you, or your brother.”

And he leaves. He doesn’t look over at Azula’s friends, doesn’t look back on the fort as he crosses the yard back to the palace. He avoids the crowd that mingles amongst the main rooms and the servants bustling about and he gets to his own chambers successfully undisturbed.

He leans against the door to his room, trying to steady his breath as Azula’s words ring in his ears. _A son for a son_. The idea’s too specific, too _adult_ , for Azula to have thought of it on her own in that instant. It was something she’d overheard.

At the time, Iroh hadn’t questioned Ozai’s crowning; he’d been too caught up in his own grief, but as time grew, he’d wondered how Azulon could have cast him aside so easily. Iroh – the first born son and renowned general, the slayer of the last dragons. Azulon _loved_ Iroh and would never have betrayed him like that.

Ozai would have though.

Sobs explode out of Iroh’s chest and he collapses to his knees as his heart breaks, and breaks, and breaks.

\--

That evening, after Iroh takes time to collect himself, he visits Zuko. He’d been left unguarded and the single healer on duty is dead on her feet. Iroh’s heart clenches in grief and anger, but he nods to the woman and bids her a goodnight, relieving her of her immediate duties and sending her to rest in the adjoining room. She bows her thanks and is gone before Iroh makes it to Zuko’s bedside.

He’s still unconscious; gauze is covering the whole top half of his head and down the side of his cheek. Iroh grabs his hand and is alarmed to find it cool to the touch. Carefully, he warms his own palms and grips Zuko’s hands tightly, willing his internal flam to coax Zuko’s back to life. He’s not even certain it works, but it makes him feel better imagining it. He bows his head over his young nephew and prays to Agni like he hasn’t since he lost Lu Ten.

In the morning, Azula shows. She walks softly into the room, looking around like she might be ambushed.

“Good morning, Princess,” Iroh offers softly, voice rough and ragged from his crying and praying. Azula swallows hard and nods in response. She sits across from his stiffly, staring at Zuko with a detached look on her face.

Iroh gently draws away his hand and stands. “I’ll give you a moment,” he says and panic flashes across her face before she can smooth it over again.

“I’ll be back with breakfast,” he soothes and she gives him a one-shouldered shrug.

“I’m not hungry,” she says shortly and Iroh nods and leaves. He brings her back a favorite sugared bread and some fruit on a plate and sits back across from her with his own.

He picks at his fruit and watches from the corner of his eyes as she picks at her bread. Pride and love swell in his chest at the sight.

\--

Ozai visits Zuko exactly once. Zuko’s asleep more often than not and Iroh rarely leaves his bedside, so when Ozai arrives to find his son in a fitful sleep and his brother next to him, he smirks and narrows his eyes.

“How is he?” he asks and Iroh straightens his spine. He feels white hot anger coursing through him, but he forces himself to hold his tongue. He breathes in deep to center himself and exhales slowly.

“The healer says he’s doing well,” Iroh says stiffly. “But they’re not sure about the lasting damage to his eye or his ear.”

Ozai hums and rubs his thumb along the pads of his fingers, like he’s still feeling Zuko’s face under his hand.

“Well, if he survives, he’ll be banished.” His eyes flicker from Zuko to Iroh, as if the words were meant to bait him. Iroh grits his teeth.

“Is that so?” he asks and Ozai twists his face into faux seriousness.

“Oh, yes,” he says, nodding. “After all the cowardice he displayed at the Agni Kai? I have no other choice.”

Despite being crown prince, Iroh had learnt control as a young man. He worked his way up in the military through his skills alone and doing that taught him how to smile and bow and accept whatever he’d been told. Ozai never had to master that kind of control, so when Iroh meets his statement with a head bow and, “you must do whatever is best for that nation,” Ozai’s face pinches in fury. He leaves without another word and Iroh waits until he can’t hear footsteps retreating down the hall before he bows his head and lets the tears fall from his eyes.

Iroh spends the next few weeks helping Zuko gather his strength and checking on his healing. Azula arrives every few days to share a meal with him and sit in silence.

Iroh doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He can’t leave Zuko to be banished alone, but he can’t abandon Azula behind either. He doesn’t know what to do and he can’t help both of them. Leave one behind to stand beside the other would be a death sentence. Iroh spends his nights planning and strategizing, and when nothing comes from that, he turns to Agni, bargaining and praying for an answer.

Word travels throughout the nation of the Fire Lord defeating the crown prince in an Agni Kai and in a month’s time, everyone’s talking about the disgraced prince, but no one mentions a banishment. Iroh isn’t sure why Ozai is waiting on the announcement, unless he wants Zuko to be lucid enough to understand his father’s scorn.

Zuko’s healing nicely. The gauze is reduced to one side of his face and he’s eating more regularly. Iroh knows the time of his banishment is soon and he still doesn’t know what to do.

He’s spending a long night at Zuko’s bedside when he hears a slight scuffle and then a _thud_ in the hall. Zuko is sleeping as deeply as he can and Iroh slowly stands and creeps towards the door. His flames grow and die when he sees a dark figure with a bright blue mask illuminated in the glow of the candles in the hall. The sword is sheathed on her back and she stares silently at Iroh.

Iroh backs away from the door and allows Ursa to walk into the room. Iroh follows as she walks over to Zuko’s bed; her hands tremble as they hover over Zuko’s face and Iroh closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says and the mask turns to look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect him.”

The mask looks down at Zuko and then back to Iroh. Ursa reaches out and lays a hand on Iroh’s shoulder in silent comfort.

“How is he?” she asks through the mask and Iroh looks at her and then down at his nephew.

“He’s… he’s healing,” is all he can say.

“I’m not leaving him,” she says, voice firm and harder than Iroh’s ever heard it. His heart skips and races in his chest.

“Okay,” he says and glances briefly up, thanking Agni for this solution.

He helps bundle Zuko up in her arms and walks with her down side passages and dark hallways until they reach a door leading to the back yards that open into the densely packed forest.

He rests a hand on Ursa’s shoulder and then leans down to press a kiss to Zuko’s right temple. He watches as the two disappear into the night and whispers a blessed prayer for Agni to watch over them.

\--

When he gets back to the healer’s quarters, he puts on a show. He calls for guards and has them searching every inch of the castle. Azula rushes to him, her pajama bottoms showing under her robe and her hair pulled in a tight, lopsided knot.

“Uncle! What’s happened?” she asks and Iroh hates that he has to lie to her.

“The Blue Spirit took your brother,” he says, feeling the words over his tongue like hot grease. She’s panicked and then furious. She pushes past him and grabs the healer, who’s trembling and rubbing at her head, the spot where Ursa no doubt hit her to knock her out.

Azula grabs the woman by the collar of her shirt and pulls their faces close together. Iroh watches as Azula yells and blames the healer and only stops with the Fire Lord walks through the doors.

Iroh stops his anxious pacing and bows. Azula rushes to his side and does the same.

“What happened here?” Ozai says slowly, voice dripping like poisoned honey.

“The Blue Spirit attacked,” Iroh says. “He stole the crown prince.”

“Did he?” Ozai asks and Iroh resists the urge to look up at his brother.

“Well that feels convenient,” Ozai murmurs and Iroh doesn’t move. “And where were you when this happened? If I recall, you have scarcely left Zuko’s bedside.”

“I took a walk. When I returned, he was gone.”

Ozai stays silent for a moment and then says, “Well, then it only seems fitting that you are the one in charge of finding him.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Iroh replies, knowing it’s an unofficial banishment. Ozai doesn’t technically need an excuse to banish anyone, but the Fire Lord banishing his brother so soon after scorching his son would bring far too much talk. This is a way to keep Iroh away from the palace for a little while and away from Azula long enough for Ozai to sink his hooks back into her.

“Father,” Azula interrupts and Iroh’s blood runs cold. “I would like to help. I promise I will find him and bring him back home.”

“Very well,” Ozai says after a moment of contemplation in which Iroh’s heart beats in his throat. “I don’t have any use for you here. You may help your uncle find your brother and bring both him and the Blue Spirit back to me.”

“Thank you, Father,” Azula says, proudly, unaware Ozai saw her alliance shift to Iroh and Zuko. “I won’t let you down.”

\--

Iroh and Azula set out the next day. Mai and Ty Lee bid Azula goodbye and with a small escort, the two of them set out to hunt down the Blue Spirit. Iroh does his best to misdirect Azula’s hunt and it works for a while. They spend tireless months searching the Fire Nation for any signs of the Blue Spirit or Zuko to no avail. One of the guards assigned to travel with them cautiously mentions the suggestion that Zuko might no longer be in the Fire Nation. Iroh is careful not to show satisfaction at the suggestion, not when Azula is frustrated enough as it is. Iroh gently coaches her into meditation and redirecting her ire as he sends a request for a navy ship to travel to the Earth Kingdom to continue their search.

It’s a week of waiting before their request is approved and then another two to get to the docks.

They’re at sea for weeks when Azula gently knocks on Iroh’s door. He welcomes her into his quarters with a cup of tea and waits while she fiddles with the cup in her hands.

“Do you think he’s alive?” she asks softly and Iroh sets down his own cup carefully.

“Yes.” Her eyes flicker to him.

“How can you be so sure?”

Iroh sighs. “Princess Azula, I have something to tell you.”

“About the night Zuko was taken?”

Iroh is once again impressed with her prowess; she knew he was lying all those months ago and was waiting for him to finally tell her the truth.

“Actually, even before that.”

And so Iroh tells Azula about meeting the blue-masked thief, about her mother coming to check on them. He tells her about Ozai’s planned banishment and about Ursa coming to take Zuko away.

Azula sits quietly, her face a blank mask, and when Iroh is done with his story, she calmly stands and walks out of the room.

Iroh is deeply concerned by the reaction and follows her. He finds her on the upper deck, running through drills alone, her white-blue fire lighting up the night sky. Iroh watches her fight at nothing, building up a sweat that shines on her forehead. Her movements are precise and strong at first and then get sloppier as she carries on.

“Princess,” Iroh says calmly when Azula’s foot slips on the salty wood and she falls, causing an arc of flames to shower over her. Azula stands and shoots lightening at the sky with a scream and collapses to her knees. Iroh rushes to her and pulls her to him, holding her to his chest as she grips the front of his shirt and shakes with her sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he says lowly. Sorry for lying to her, sorry for not protecting her or her brother, sorry for keeping her away from home on a fools errand.

“Why did she leave me behind?” Azula chokes out and Iroh’s heart breaks anew in his chest.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully, swearing he will never lie to her again. “But I’m here.”

\--

They continue their search, but it’s different now. Something’s shifted and Iroh can tell Azula’s confused, lost. She fluctuates between explosive anger and quiet acceptance; Iroh tries to ride out the waves and give her whatever she needs.

He’s out buying a gift for her fifteenth birthday when he spots a pai sho table set up in the corner of a small shop. He approaches and smiles warmly at the man sitting at the table and asks to play. The stranger welcomes him to sit and Iroh sits down with his packages and reaches into his sleeve for his white lotus tile to start the game.

It’s a quick game – it always is with fellow lotus players – and soon the man is boasting about buying his new friend a drink to celebrate a game well played. Iroh and the man retire to an empty section of a tea shop and Iroh leans in.

“I am looking for someone,” he says, “My nephew. He’s sixteen and has a scar on his face. He’d be traveling with a woman.”

The stranger chokes on his tea and Iroh gives him a worried look.

“Is he a fellow firebender?

“Yes,” Iroh answers eagerly. The man sets his cup down and his finger traces the rim.

“I’ve heard of him,” he says and gives Iroh a serious look. “Last I heard he was traveling with the avatar.”

Iroh’s cup hits the table hard.

“The avatar has resurfaced?”

“Must’ve been half a year or so ago.”

Iroh leans back in his seat and stares at a spot on the wall above the stranger’s head.

“And you’re sure my nephew is with him?”

“Don’t know of many kids with that kind of scarring. A’course I don’t know his name, but last I heard the avatar was working with a scarred firebender.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Headed north,” the man says lowly. “The avatar’s just a kid. He needs to learn waterbending.”

“North,” Iroh repeats softly. The Northern Water Tribe has the last waterbenders; that’s where he’d have to go. Iroh thanks the man and leaves. He finds Azula pacing the ship deck in a fury and before she can spin into a tirade, Iroh catches her eye and shakes his head sharply, then gestures over his shoulder.

Azula’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click and she follows Iroh to his room. Iroh sets down his packages on his desk and turns as Azula closes the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” she asks and Iroh moves to start a kettle of tea.

“I have news of your brother’s whereabouts,” he says and Azula moves closer, sitting in a chair at Iroh’s little tea table. “He’s north.”

“North?” Azula asks, wrinkling her nose. “How far north?”

“All the way,” Iroh replies, steeping his tea bag in boiling water.

“Why would he be in the north?”

“I just need you to trust me,” Iroh says. Azula frowns, a line forming deep on her forehead. She nods and Iroh replies with a thankful smile.

“So we’re going to the North Pole?”

Iroh smiles, “their ice cities are like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

\--

Iroh and Azula arrive to the North Pole with their small crew and are immediately under attack. Azula begins barking orders for a counterstrike, but Iroh takes charge and orders them to surrender. Iroh speaks for the ship when waterbenders board and orders his men to comply as icy manacles are wrapped around their wrists.

“We come in peace,” Iroh repeats. “We are merely looking for my nephew.”

“What makes you think we’d have anyone from the Fire Nation here?” the chief asks, voice ringing deep and commanding across the ice and snow.

“Because,” Iroh says, “he’s working with the avatar.”

Azula’s head whips around to stare at him, but Iroh also catches twin movements in the force standing behind the chief; a young warrior boy looks over at an even younger waterbender and Iroh looks away before he’s noticed watching them.

“The avatar has not been seen in a hundred years,” the chief replies and Iroh meets his gaze.

“That’s not what I hear.”

There’s a moment of silence before they’ve been ordered way to the prison. Azula jerks in her binding and Iroh prays she’ll trust him enough to follow his lead, but he ignores her attempts to get his attention and allows himself to be shoved into a cell alone.

He sits, quietly meditating, until a man walks into his room with a pai sho board. He’s a waterbender, Iroh recognizes him from the attack, and a calm washes over him. This is a test he’s certain to pass and soon he will be reunited with Zuko.

“Do you play?” the waterbender asks and Iroh nods.

“Guest gets the first move,” the other man says and tosses a bag of tiles through the bars. Iroh reaches in and arranges the tiles until they’re all face up then grabs the lotus tile, placing it on the board.

“That’s an unusual strategy,” the man says and places his own piece down.

“Unusual strategies lead to the greater victories,” Iroh replies. The game falls into a familiar pattern and soon the game is over. The man collects the game and stands, unlocking the cell door.

“My name is Pakku,” he says, holding out a hand for Iroh to shake. “Allow me to introduce you to the avatar, General Iroh.”

Iroh’s lead out of the prison and through the city to a small, nondescript home. Pakku knocks lightly on the doorframe before entering and Iroh follows.

He sees the Water Tribe children first. The warrior’s standing at alert and the bender is beside him, her hand resting on a water pouch.

“He’s an ally,” Pakku says to the boy, who straightens and relaxes his grip on the club in his hand.

“Who is he?” the girl asks and Iroh opens his mouth to introduce himself when an incredulous voice cuts him off.

“Uncle?”

Iroh looks to the side and sees Zuko standing in a doorway leading deeper into the house. Zuko runs at him and Iroh wraps his arms around his nephew. His heart pounds in his chest and he feels tears burning his eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” Zuko mumbles into Iroh’s chest and Iroh holds him even tighter.

When Zuko’s grip finally loosens, Iroh lets him go and notices the arrival of another young boy.

The avatar.

Before Iroh can be swept away in his confusion at the age of the nomad standing before him, Zuko is asking Iroh questions about how he got here, and when he realizes Azula is here too, he stands and immediately wants to see her.

Against Pakku’s instincts, Azula and Iroh’s crew is released.

Iroh watches Azula with a close eye. She’s stiff and her eyes are hard. Iroh wishes he knew what she was thinking. Zuko explains how he came to join the avatar, how he and his mother split up for safety. Iroh and Azula are introduced to Zuko’s friends and Azula goes even more still at the notion.

That evening, she grabs Iroh and Zuko and is insistent on capturing the avatar.

“You can’t be serious,” Zuko says in a harsh whisper. “Aang’s going to end the war.”

“And how do you think he’s going to do that?” Azula hisses. “He’s going to destroy the Fire Nation.”

“No,” Zuko says in a frustrated sigh. “He’s going to stop our father.”

“It’s the same thing,” she growls and Zuko looks at her with incredulity.

“No, it’s not, Azula.”

“Uncle,” Azula says abruptly. “Tell him we have to capture the avatar and return home.”

Iroh hesitates and Azula flinches like she’d been struck.

“I think your brother has a point,” he says in a rush to calm her.

“But if we bring father the avatar then—”

“He doesn’t love us, Azula,” Zuko all but shouts. “He destroys everything. I will not let him get his hands on Aang.”

Iroh stays silent and Azula growls in frustration.

“Fine! I don’t need you. Either of you!” she looks from Zuko to Iroh and then storms off.

Azula leaves with the crew in the night. Zuko suggests they go after her, but Iroh knows Azula, has spent the better part of three years with her and he knows she needs to be given the option of doing the right thing. Besides, Zuko can’t leave his friends at this point, and especially not if Azula truly does warn Ozai the avatar’s returned.

And his instincts are good. Somehow, Admiral Zhao knew of the avatar and attacks the Northern Water Tribe the next day. The waterbenders were no match for the Fire Navy and Zhao quickly gets the upper hand. The great battle doesn’t last long and Zhao uses the opportunity to kill the moon spirit. As color seems to blanche from the world, Princess Yue sacrifices her life for the moon spirit and balance is restored as Aang wipes out the fleet of soldiers to protect the tribe.

They’d won the battle, but as Iroh watches over these children, watches as they mourn their losses and try to regain their composure enough to plan their next move, he knows this was not a victory.

\--

Azula is on her way back home when the moon turns blood red and it seems like color has been leached from the world. The ocean calms to a standstill and she looks back, as though she might be able to see the North Pole despite being almost two days away. Panic consumes Azula, tightening its fist around her throat.

The crew joins her on the deck and stares up at the sky in mounting confusion. Only a handful of minutes pass before the moon turns white again and the ship begins rocking as the ocean awakens.

Azula’s relief is overwhelming. She feels sick with it. Her head aches and she turns to go back to her room. Her legs feel weak and she barely makes it to her room before collapsing as darkness overcomes her.

End of Book One.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this!! you can find me at stvrklight on tumblr :)


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